


July

by Finally_Home



Series: Throughout the Years [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Smut, Summer, Summer Romance, pianist!baekhyun who has big dreams, writer!yixing who moves to a small rural town
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:35:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24880927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finally_Home/pseuds/Finally_Home
Summary: Yixing is an aspiring writer who moves to the countryside in order to work on his very first novel.Baekhyun is the young pianist who befriends him, showing him all the wonders and beauties of this little town called Cheongsu.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Zhang Yi Xing | Lay
Series: Throughout the Years [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1800370
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	July

**Author's Note:**

> **_WARNINGS!_** underage sex, major character death, mentions of suicide  
> \- baekhyun is technically underage (while banging yixing) but i didn't tag it because he's actually close enough to being 18 that i sort of counted him of age already. if any of the content bothers you, please don't read this story!
> 
>  **Playlist:**  
>  July - My Soul  
> Show Luo - 灰色空间 (aka The Classic - Saranghamyeon Halsurok)  
> July - Do You Remember?

_Their story does not end happily, for truly, there are no happy endings in life, and whoever says that must be pinched black and blue._

  
_Rachelle sighs, takes one last look at the hourglass - the last promise Brayden left her - and gently places it into the water by her feet. The waves lap, carrying her love and regrets far away - perhaps to Heaven, where her lover must be._

  
Yixing smiles, setting down his pen with a relieved sigh. He’s done it, he’s finally done it! He’s finished his first book! Of course, he’ll have to edit and revise a lot, but that’s exactly why he moved to the peaceful countryside.

  
Yixing turns to the scene outside the train window, massaging his cramped hand. Fields of yellow rapeseed flowers fill his vision, contrasting beautifully with the rich blue sky and spring green hills, and Yixing feels his breath hitch in wonder.

  
He’s never seen such a striking sight, and his heart leaps in excitement as a small train station comes into view. ‘Cheongsu’, the sign reads, and Yixing recognizes the name of the town he’ll be living in.

  
“Cheongsu Station!” the conductor’s call echoes through the train. “Two minutes!”

  
Hurriedly snapping out of his daze, Yixing throws himself down on the dusty floor to drag his suitcase out from underneath the seat.

  
“One minute!”

  
Desperate, disheveled, and dirty, Yixing stumbles into the carpeted hallway, juggling his coat and hat in one hand and dragging his suitcase with the other. “Wait!” he calls, trying his best to run without dropping anything. “Please wait, I need to get off!”

  
The attendants, already folding up the stairs, stop their work, and Yixing throws himself onto the concrete platform. “Thank you!” he gasps, pressing a hand to his chest. He doubles over, wheezing, as the train lets out a sharp whistle.

  
After a few seconds, Yixing recovers himself, still coughing slightly, and gazes upon the slowly moving train with fondness. Ah, yes, this majestic red dragon of good faith. He will always remember it as the magical ride that brought him to this beautiful town, the wonderfully romantic scenery that enticed his eyes and emotions, the good transport on which he finished his very first novel…

  
_His novel!_

  
In a frenzy, Yixing rips off his coat and tears through all his pockets. Nothing! He can’t find his journal! He screams in frustration, grabbing his hair, knowing exactly where it is.

  
“Stop!” he screeches, dashing to the train, trying desperately to grab an attendant. “Stop the train! I left something on there!”

  
The caboose attendant, terrified, shakes his head and screams at Yixing to get back, that it’s too late, that as long as his address is on the object, the company will ship it to him as soon as possible.

  
Then, with a whoosh and a chug, the tail end of the train leaves the station, and Yixing is left alone on the platform, dust blowing all around, settling onto his shoulders.

  
***

  
“Oh, Yixing, we weren’t expecting you to come so early!” the rotund landlady frets, pouring more tea into Yixing’s cup. “You see, dear, we recently discovered a termite infestation in, well, the room that was to be yours, and the man who was supposed to get rid of the pests hasn’t come in yet…”

  
“That’s perfectly okay, Mrs. Park.” Yixing sighs dejectedly but manages a polite smile. “It’s just that, I’m not sure I have another place to stay.”

  
“Don’t worry about that, dear,” Mrs. Park reassures him, patting his hand kindly. “We’re a very friendly community, and I’m sure we’ll find someone who has an extra room to spare. Let me go call up some of my friends now.” She stands up to leave the living room. “And make sure to drink your tea!”

  
Yixing lifts the cup to his lips, feeling his smile relax into something more genuine. He takes a sip of the locally-grown green tea and sighs again, but quietly. It’s not anyone’s fault that the termites destroyed his room, he supposes, but still, he wonders if Mrs. Park can actually find him somewhere to sleep, and what he would have to do if she can’t.

  
“Yixing, dear!” Oh, there she is now, rushing back into the room with a large smile on her face. “Good news, dearie, my friend has decided to take you in!” The pressing weight on his shoulders disappears, and Yixing grins. “She’s sending her son over to pick you up. He’s around your age, so you’ll be great friends.” She peers out of the large window behind Yixing. “He should be here any second now, so don’t you worry.”

  
“No problem, Mrs. Park.” Yixing stands up and takes her hand in both of his. “I can’t thank you enough for this. I’m so sorry to trouble you.”

  
He must have said something wrong, because her face crumples into something akin to sadness. “Oh, it was really nothing, dear,” she tells him imploringly, patting his cheek. “You’re such a sweet boy… I have no doubt that my son would have loved you.”

  
Yixing is about to ask about this son, but Mrs. Park’s eyes suddenly light up, looking past Yixing, who spins around.

  
“Mrs. Park!” The newcomer bounds into the room, gathering Yixing’s landlady into a huge hug. “How’ve you been? Sorry we haven’t been around lately, business hasn’t been going too well.” He turns to Yixing, who can see nothing but bright eyes, black hair, and pale skin. “And you must be Zhang Yixing!” He grabs Yixing’s hand, shaking it enthusiastically. “I’m Byun Baekhyun, the son of your landlord, and I’m going to be your best friend from now on!”

  
Baekhyun is just a tad shorter than Yixing, and the grin he flashes dazzles him. Yixing finds himself drowning in amused eyes, suffocating in Baekhyun’s starlight.

  
“I-I’m Yixing,” he finally stammers out, blushing. “Yes, I’m so sorry to bother your family-”

  
Baekhyun laughs suddenly, throwing his head back, and Yixing is startled into silence. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Baekhyun lets go of Yixing’s hand, brushing the dark hair out of his crescent-moon eyes. “It’s just that we don’t mind at all, having you.” He raises his eyebrows cheekily. “Now come on, unless you want to sleep with the termites.”

  
Laughing, he grabs Yixing’s suitcase and darts out of the room, swinging back around after catching the doorframe with one hand. “Yixing!” he calls cheerfully, golden sunlight illuminating his silhouette. “Let’s go on an adventure!”

  
***

  
After dropping off Yixing’s suitcase and coat at his house, Baekhyun grabs Yixing’s hand and takes him out into the hills filled with sunshine. Yixing spends the entire afternoon marvelling at the fields of golden yellow in front of him, gazing at the fresh green around him, staring at the face beside him, wondering how such a small town could be so wonderfully beautiful.

  
“Why’d you come, Yixing?” Baekhyun asks, pillowing his head on his hands and turning to look Yixing in the eyes. “No one ever comes to Cheongsu. More of us leave than come, so only something really big must have brought you here.”

  
Yixing starts, at a loss for words, and then, all of a sudden, his despair crashes down upon him, turning his world black and white again.

  
“My novel,” he moans, burying his head in his arms. “I lost my novel on the train… it was completely finished, and I just ruined myself like that…”

  
Beside him, Baekhyun sits up, grass rustling under his pants. “Hey, I’m sure it’ll be okay,” he says worriedly, and Yixing feels a soft hand on his hair. “You can rewrite it from memory, make it better than what you had before.”

  
“That’s not the problem.” Yixing heaves a large, shuddering sigh, holding back tears, and brings his head up to face Baekhyun, who looks pained. “Someone else might steal it and take the idea as his or her own.” Yixing lets out another despairing breath and drops his chin onto his knees. “I better start working on something else now.”

  
They sit in silence for a while, watching the sunshine glint off of yellow rapeseed flowers, feeling the cool mountain wind in their hair, and finally, Baekhyun speaks up.

  
“Then I’ll help you.” He looks at Yixing, a faint, childishly triumphant glint in his dark eyes. “I’ll be your personal assistant, alright?”

  
March is not a warm month in the mountains, but the chill is not why Yixing shivers. “Okay,” he whispers, heart melting as Baekhyun throws his hands up and cheers. “You can be my assistant.”

  
“Now come on!” Baekhyun says, leaping up and offering a hand. “We can’t find anything to write about if we just sit here, can we?”

  
Enchanted by the sparkle in Baekhyun’s eyes, the flop of hair that blows gently in the wind, Yixing slowly reaches out and takes his hand. “Yeah,” he says softly. “Let’s go.”

  
***

  
Baekhyun is a student, Yixing learns, still in high school, but aspiring to be a pianist.

  
“We’ve got no pianos in the house,” he explains, kicking at small rocks in front of him, making dust fly, “so I come down to the school to practice. It’s a bit of a walk, but everything’s worth it in the end. All the time I’ve spent on it, all the fighting, all the tears, the music washes it all away.”

  
Yixing stays silent. Baekhyun glances at him questioningly, but it’s not until they’ve reached the school building that Yixing says, softly, “You must really love music a lot.”

  
Baekhyun chuckles, pulling open the door with a flamboyant gesture. “Of course, my lord,” he teases, bowing low and allowing Yixing to enter the building. “We’re all the same, Yixing, willing to throw away our lives for what we love most.”

  
“Not me,” Yixing protests, following Baekhyun down a long, tiled hallway. “I’m not the one who walks a mile each day just to practice piano.”

  
Baekhyun turns suddenly, startling Yixing. “Then who,” he says softly, meeting Yixing’s wide-eyed gaze, “was the one who moved all the way out here to write his novel?”

  
Taken aback, unable to move or speak, Yixing holds Baekhyun’s gaze, terrified that he’s made him angry, until he sees the stars sparkling in Baekhyun’s eyes.

  
“Point taken,” he admits, lowering his eyes with a smile. Baekhyun laughs too, throwing his shoulder against a heavy wooden door, pushing it open to reveal a grand piano sitting in the middle of an otherwise-empty room.

  
“My love,” he introduces, sweeping his arm out. “Welcome, Yixing, to the world of Byun Baekhyun. Sit down,” he offers, producing a chair out of nowhere, “and escape into the magical world of July.”

  
“July?” Yixing asks, taking a seat. Baekhyun winks but doesn’t answer, perching himself carefully on the piano bench. He sighs softly, placing his fingers on the keys, and closes his eyes.

  
Yixing closes his eyes too, and a moment later, vibrant notes flow out of the piano from underneath Baekhyun’s fingertips, and his eyes fly open with a gasp, emotion threatening to overwhelm him. The music is light, repetitive, but carries with it a sense of sorrow and longing, and Baekhyun’s fingers fly over the keys, breathtakingly graceful, capturing Yixing’s heart.

  
Baekhyun looks so beautiful, so ethereal, in such a way that Yixing cannot describe. The way Baekhyun’s lips part slightly, the way his hair falls over his eyes, the way his eyelids flutter but never open, the way his eyebrows furrow in emotion, the way he throws his head back, exposing the delicate curves of his neck.

  
_Yellow_ , Yixing thinks dazedly. _Baekhyun is yellow, this song is yellow, golden yellow, beautiful just like him._

  
Yixing is rendered speechless, even when the song ends and Baekhyun lifts his fingers off of the keyboard, breathing erratically.

  
“Yixing,” he whispers, standing up to make his way over. “ _Yixing_.”

  
Yixing’s eyes are teary, and he reaches up, reverently, to touch Baekhyun’s face. “You,” he breathes, “you are _so_ beautiful.”

  
Suddenly, Baekhyun leans down, just barely hovering above Yixing’s lips. His breath hitches, and Yixing almost loses control, almost kisses him, but then, just as abruptly, Baekhyun pulls himself away, face flaming, and rushes out of the room.

  
The door slams shut with a hollow thud, echoing the feeling in Yixing’s chest.

  
***

  
They go back to being completely normal. Nothing about the incident is mentioned, and Yixing can almost believe that things have smoothed over.

  
Then, that night, as Yixing lies in bed writing, someone knocks on his door.

  
“Come in,” he answers hurriedly, closing his notebook. The door opens, and Baekhyun peeks in.

  
“Am I welcome, my lord?” he asks cheekily, winking, and Yixing feels himself smiling. He takes off his reading glasses and opens his arms.

  
“Enter, my humble servant,” he declares, and Baekhyun, giggling, dives into the bed beside him. Yixing turns, and Baekhyun snuggles into his chest.

  
“Tell me a story,” he says softly. “You must have tons of them.”

  
Yixing hums, trailing light fingers over Baekhyun’s arm. “You’ve heard them all,” he chuckles. “It’s time for you to tell me one.”

  
Baekhyun doesn’t respond, and Yixing thinks he’s fallen asleep. He’s about to turn off the light when Baekhyun sighs.

  
“Let me tell you about Park Chanyeol,” he says quietly.

  
***

  
Park Chanyeol was the son of Mrs. Park, Yixing’s first landlord. The termite-infested room used to be Chanyeol’s, but it’d been long abandoned, and the last time someone had entered it was five years ago.

  
Baekhyun had been the last person to leave the room.

  
_(He was my best friend, Baekhyun says in the present, trailing light fingers up Yixing’s ribs.)_

  
Park Chanyeol was a bright boy, a gentle giant. Everyone who met him loved him, or at least liked him.

  
_(You might’ve noticed that Mrs. Park is a single mother. Her husband left to make better money and never came back.)_

  
Chanyeol understood, from a very young age, that his mother was sad and that he needed to be good for her. He was a responsible kid who never took anything the wrong way, the smart but humble student, someone who would have become great.

  
He was Baekhyun’s best friend.

  
_(Someone who genuinely cared, Baekhyun explains, fingers stilling as they brush Yixing’s stomach.)_

  
They were in middle school when it happened. It was all very quick, very sudden, and no one could have foreseen it.

  
It wasn’t a national headline, but to the people of Cheongsu, it changed their lives as they knew it.

  
_(He committed suicide. Baekhyun’s hand drops, and he presses his face into Yixing’s side. He jumped off a cliff.)_

  
Nothing was quite the same after that. Mrs. Park broke down but recovered, and so did the town. Baekhyun hid himself from the world for a month but gradually returned.

  
They built a grave for Chanyeol. Every May, Baekhyun gathers wild petunias, in all different colors and shades, to decorate the gravestone.

  
_(I’ll take you to it someday, he promises, letting out a sigh. You would have loved him.)_

  
***

  
Baekhyun and Yixing grow closer, and one day, they visit Chanyeol’s grave.

  
“We used to come up here a lot, back when he was alive.” Baekhyun places a bouquet of camellias on the grass in front of the gravestone.

  
_Park Chanyeol  
November 27, 19XX - May 5, 19XX  
Let your soul free._

  
“He used to listen to me play piano,” Baekhyun remembers with a smile. “Remember that song I played for you? July’s My Soul. It was his favorite.”

  
The small, twisted smile on Baekhyun’s face hurts Yixing’s heart. He nods, swallowing. “I can see why,” he whispers. Baekhyun looks at him.

  
“Why?” he asks, sitting down. “Wait, don’t answer that.” Yixing remains standing but raises his eyebrows. Baekhyun smiles bitterly. “I never told you about his room. I was the last one in it, the last one to leave.”

  
“You don’t have to,” Yixing says quietly. Baekhyun shakes his head, reaching out a hand to lightly touch the gravestone.

  
“I want to.” His hair glints in the sunlight, shining black. “It was half a year after he died. All this time, no one had been able to, to just go in. It reminded us too much of him.

  
“But I went, six months later, on his birthday, and I regretted it the moment I stepped in. Everything was undisturbed, normal, as if he was just gone on a school trip and coming back the next day.”

  
Baekhyun puts a hand over his face, shoulders trembling. Yixing doesn’t touch him, and after a moment, Baekhyun continues, shakily.

  
“They took his suicide note, the police, when they first came, but I lied down on his bed, and the pillow crinkled. I reached into the pillowcase, and it was a note.”

  
Baekhyun takes in a deep breath, still covering his face. “It was a note, addressed to me, as if he had known. He said, ‘Baekhyun-ah, don’t be sad for me. It’s not anyone’s fault. I just don’t know what to do anymore. There’s no more point in me living. Please take care of my mother for me.’” He pauses, blowing out a long stream of breath to calm himself. “Do you know how much I cried?”

  
He removes his hand and looks at Yixing, eyes puffy and red, biting his lip to keep from crying again. “He had _every single_ reason to live. We were in _middle school_. There was _nothing_ to keep him from enjoying his life, and at the very least, he could have thought about his _mother_ …”

  
Baekhyun breaks down into sobs again, and this time, Yixing approaches him, kneeling down to put his arms around him.

  
They stay like that for a long time, until Baekhyun’s tears have subsided. Yixing’s foot goes numb, but he doesn’t move, and finally, when Baekhyun raises his head again, he shakes his head.

  
“What an asshole,” he murmurs, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Yixing says nothing, only holds him closer, and Baekhyun leans his head on his shoulder, letting out a quiet, broken sigh.

  
“I’m sorry,” he finally whispers. “You had to deal with all this. I never meant to…”

  
Yixing shakes his head, bringing his hand up to brush Baekhyun’s cheek with the backs of his fingers. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m honored that you can trust me with your secret.”

  
The sun blazes ruby red, illuminating Baekhyun’s delicate features, making his skin glow, and Yixing’s heart hurts. Then, Baekhyun moves to stand up, and the moment is over.

  
***

  
“July has way more songs,” Baekhyun explains, tapping out a rhythm on Yixing’s leg. “I just can’t ever find sheet music, and I’m not one of those geniuses who can play by ear.” He shrugs. “So I’m stuck with My Soul and In Love.”

  
Yixing smiles and plays a chord. “You can always train yourself,” he says. “That’s how I did it. We can’t get to absolute pitch, but even relative pitch is better than nothing.”

  
Baekhyun glances at him skeptically. “How?” he demands, placing his fingers on the keyboard. “Wait, don’t look. Tell me what this is.”

  
He plays a single note, an A flat, and Yixing tells him, “It’s in the fourth octave, probably somewhere near a G.”

  
“Whoa!” Baekhyun jerks back in surprise. “It was A flat! Are you serious? Teach me!”

  
Yixing laughs at his eagerness. “Well, first, you have to recognize middle C…” Baekhyun stares at him, waiting for more, and Yixing rubs his neck sheepishly. “To be honest, I just recognize all the Cs, and then I play the scale in my head from there.”

  
Baekhyun laughs, throwing back his head, and Yixing joins in. The fading sunlight hits the motes of dust in the room, and in the middle of it all, Baekhyun looks like an angel. Yixing wants to stay in this moment forever, taking in his beauty, but Baekhyun catches his eye and smiles cheekily.

  
“Is July your favorite month now?” he asks teasingly, but Yixing nods yes. “Wait, really? Because of the music?”

  
_Because of you_ , Yixing wants to say, but instead, he says, “Yep! I’ll never think of July the same way again!”

  
Baekhyun laughs again, but this time, his eyes never leave Yixing. The sun sets lower in the sky, and the light streaming into the room washes over everything in amber. Baekhyun’s hair glints gold, and Yixing almost reaches out to touch it.

  
“Let’s go home,” Baekhyun says, turning his gaze away. “My mom’s making noodles today.”

  
“Yeah.” Yixing stands up, still in a daze. “Let’s get going.”

  
***

  
“Yixing, look!” Baekhyun leaps lightly, making his way over a large pile of rocks. “The wild roses are blooming!” He carefully reaches out, brushing the tips of his fingers against the delicate buds, face softening into an expression of love and pity. “I’ll have to take you to the orchards,” he murmurs, letting his hand fall to his side. “The peach and cherry blossoms are wonderful.”

  
Yixing stops, huffing and puffing, leaning his weight against a boulder. “Are they as wonderful as the rest of this place?” he pants. Baekhyun turns, raising his eyebrows in a gesture of mock sternness.

  
“Of course!” he exclaims, the barest hint of a grin touching his lips. “They’re a bit like you, Yixing. Wouldn’t you give up your entire life to write something great? They give up their lives to put on a show, the greatest one that I ever knew.” Baekhyun turns back, arms waving as he tries to keep balance on the rock.

  
“Baekhyun!” Yixing shouts, scrambling up in a burst of worry. “Be careful!”

  
Baekhyun turns his head, grinning, and leaps down. “Oh, you were worried about me,” he teases, sashaying his way towards Yixing. “Scared I was going to die, but Yixing, you forget.” He pauses, and Yixing sees the ghost of sadness upon his face. “I grew up in these mountains. I know them top to bottom.”

  
Yixing has nothing to say to that, and Baekhyun’s smile falls away. It’s a very rare occasion that Baekhyun is serious, but right now, Yixing can see no stars in his dark eyes.

  
“I like you,” he blurts out, suddenly, and Baekhyun’s sadness melts away into shock. “I-I’ve been in love with you ever since I met you, Baekhyun, and living with you for so long, I…” He swallows hard, looking away from Baekhyun’s star-strewn eyes. “I hoped you felt the same, but you were always so friendly with everyone else too, and I didn’t know what to think. I hoped we had something… special, I guess, between us.”

  
Silence. Yixing turns to leave, but Baekhyun’s soft hand catches his arm, and Yixing falls backwards onto the grassy hill. He tries to get up, but Baekhyun’s face appears in front of him, serious in all his beauty.

  
“Yixing,” he says softly, the wind gently blowing the hair off his face. “Did you mean that?” He hovers above Yixing, and the shining sunlight makes him look like an angel.

  
Yixing is at a loss for words, but slowly, he reaches up to touch Baekhyun’s face. Something sparkles in Baekhyun’s dark eyes, and he leans down, into Yixing’s hand.

  
“I meant it,” Yixing whispers, mesmerized by the starlight in Baekhyun’s eyes. “Everything, all of it. I _love_ you, Baekhyun.”

  
And then, Baekhyun’s lips are on his, and Yixing’s hand is in Baekhyun’s hair, and everything is soft - _so_ soft - and they break apart, breathless, but Yixing pulls Baekhyun in again by the nape of his neck, and the rest of the afternoon disappears in a warm tangle of laughter and sunshine.

  
***

  
“Are you sure it’s right for us to do this?” Yixing asks, pen scribbling away, marking down the starlight reflected in Baekhyun’s eyes, the moonlight nestled in his hair. Baekhyun turns away from the wisteria hanging down from the tree they sit under, a slight frown creasing his forehead.

  
“What do you mean?” he asks, confused. His hand drops away from the purple flowers, and he crawls to Yixing, grass staining the knees of his pants green. “We’ve been ‘doing this’, including just flirting, for months now.” He lays his head down on Yixing’s leg, taking his hand with a smile. “I mean, you even rejected Mrs. Park for me. Of course it’s right.”

  
Yixing lets Baekhyun play with his fingers, smiling softly. “It’s just, you’re only seventeen, and I’m already twenty-four…” He puts down his pen, but Baekhyun is already sitting up, taking his face in his hands.

  
“Yixing,” he says quietly, “there is _nothing_ wrong with us.” His eyes shine with determination, and Yixing forgets whatever excuses he might have had. “I’m turning eighteen in a week, and a month after that, I’ll graduate. We can run away together, leave this place, go somewhere no one will recognize us.” He smiles, the left side of his mouth quirking up. “I love you, Yixing, and nothing will ever change that. Now, if you love me, you’ll kiss me and tell me everything will be alright.”

  
Yixing kisses Baekhyun, tasting the softness of his lips, and tells him that everything will be alright. Baekhyun climbs onto his lap, and Yixing lets his fingers wander just a bit too far, but the sounds that Baekhyun gasps out tell him it’s okay.

  
Under the moonlight, it’s easy to believe that everything _will_ be okay, and Yixing indulges in it. He kisses Baekhyun, swallowing the other boy’s whimpers, presses a hand against the small of his back. Baekhyun’s head falls onto his shoulder, his quick breaths burning Yixing’s skin.

  
As Yixing’s fingers work magic, Baekhyun throws his head back with a soft moan, eyelids sliding shut. Yixing latches onto the soft skin of his neck, and Baekhyun cries out, jumping forward into Yixing. Yixing closes his eyes and lets the starlight wash over him.

  
Baekhyun’s starlight, his moonlight, _Baekhyun._ Everything about Baekhyun is beautiful, and everything beautiful is Baekhyun. He lets out a soft whine, and Baekhyun captures his mouth in a kiss, tugging on his lower lip.

  
The night wanes slowly, but Yixing lies awake, gazing upon the beauty that is Byun Baekhyun, the pale skin that glows under the moonlight, the soft hair that traps the starlight. Yixing loves him, can’t bear to think about life without him, and he believes him, that everything will turn out alright.

  
***

  
Everything does not turn out alright.

  
In fact, _nothing_ turns out right.

  
Baekhyun skips down the mountain, kisses Yixing long and hard before they step into his house, and dashes into his room, screaming about being late for school.

  
Mrs. Byun looks after him with fondness, gently chiding Yixing for keeping him out so late on a school night. Yixing agrees, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, unable to tear his eyes away from the vanishing backside of a brightly illuminated boy.

  
When the bus comes, Baekhyun boards it, and Yixing turns away, a small, sweet smile still gracing his lips.

  
The next time he sees Baekhyun is in the hospital, bundled amongst white sheets and dripping tubes. Mrs. Byun is crying, holding her son’s pale hand, Mr. Byun is holding back tears, stroking his wife’s hair, and Yixing is _numb_.

  
Yixing is numb, and he wants to kiss Baekhyun, take his beautiful face in his hands and kiss it, but he can’t, and all he can do is let the tears stream down his face, silently, as the boy he loves slips away from him.

  
Mrs. Byun takes Yixing’s hand, pulls him into a hug, and whispers about how much Baekhyun loved him, how much he loved showing him the mountains, how much he loved boasting of Yixing’s talents.

  
Yixing breaks, and he clutches Mrs. Byun, crying into her shoulder as Baekhyun’s heart monitor finally falls flat.

  
***

  
Everyone knows everyone in Cheongsu, and everyone attends Baekhyun’s funeral, the second one in five years for a boy who died too young. Endless streams of people, crying, gather Yixing into their arms. Endless streams of people, crying, burn paper money for Baekhyun. Endless streams of people, crying, tie yellow ribbons to the trees around town.

  
A week later, Yixing leaves Cheongsu. Tearfully, Mrs. Byun begs him not to go, implores him to stay for Baekhyun, but agonizingly, Yixing explains, that is exactly why he _cannot_ stay.

  
There is too much Baekhyun in Cheongsu, too much to remind him of the love and pain from only a short two months. There is too much beauty, and everything beautiful reminds him of Baekhyun.

  
He steps onto the small concrete platform that is Cheongsu Station, taking a deep breath. He looks out to the fields, and in the middle of a sea of green, Yixing sees a patch of sunflowers. The bright yellow hurts his heart, and Yixing feels tears prick at his eyes.

  
Baekhyun, the sunflowers tell him, and Yixing feels the truth in that. Baekhyun, a boy made of sunshine, reborn as a flower that chases the sun.

  
The tears slide out of their own accord, and with a rush and a whistle, the train arrives. It’s the same one that Yixing rode two months ago to get here, and the attendants look surprised to see him.

  
“Leaving already?” one of them asks, unfolding the ladder. “We thought you’d be staying for good.”

  
Yixing shrugs. “Things don’t turn out the way you want them to,” he says softly, boarding the train, “but I’ll be back someday.”

  
He sits down in the fabric-covered seat, slides his suitcase underneath, and leans against the window. The flowers on the small table are orange daylilies, and Yixing closes his eyes, letting the numbness wash over him.

  
Baekhyun is yellow, he thinks, and nothing on this train is yellow.

  
***

  
“Oh, Yixing, we’re so glad you decided to visit, and during his favorite month, no less…”

  
Mrs. Byun’s smile is a bit pained, and Yixing imagines his must be too. He lowers his gaze, clearing his throat, and says, softly, “You changed your curtains.”

  
The sheer yellow curtains floating in the living room two months ago had been replaced by thick blue ones, and Mrs. Byun’s smile wavers.

  
“You know why,” she says shakily, and Yixing does. Taking a trembling breath, he takes the book on his lap and hands it to Mrs. Byun.

  
“It’s about him,” he whispers desperately, kneading the fabric of his pants. “I-I wrote it, about him and me, after I left. I just, I can’t forget about him, and I-I…”

  
In a rush, Mrs. Byun’s tears fall out, and Yixing runs out the door. He can’t stop the tears falling down his face, and he’s out of breath, sobbing, when he finally reaches Baekhyun’s grave.

  
They buried him on a hill, under a tree. Faded yellow ribbons flutter in the wind, and Yixing falls to his knees in front of Baekhyun’s gravestone.

  
“Baekhyun, Baekhyun,” he gasps, digging his fingers into the soft dirt. “I miss you, Baekhyun, I love you, I want you back, _Baekhyun_ …”

  
Yixing stays, crying, sobbing, until he falls asleep. When he opens his eyes again, the sky is ablaze in orange, red, and pink. The sun is setting, and Yixing rolls over onto his side.

  
“I wrote a book about us, Baekhyun,” he says softly, fingers trailing lightly over the grass. “It’s called _July_. You would have loved it. You would have been so proud of me. ‘Your debut novel,’ you would have said, ‘and it’s an international bestseller!’”

Yixing sighs, sitting up to move closer to the gravestone. “I can’t believe how many people know about you now, Baekhyun. So many people, and they’ll all remember you once I’m gone.” He smiles, running a single finger across the carved letters in the marble. “You’ll never be forgotten, Baekhyun. I’ll make sure they remember you.”

  
_Their story does not end happily, for there are no truly happy endings in life, and whoever says that must be pinched black and blue._

  
_Yixing sighs and rubs his hands across his eyes. Yellow is an integral part of his life now, and everywhere he looks, he sees Baekhyun._

  
_It makes him happy, that Baekhyun is always watching over him._

  
Byun Baekhyun  
May 29, 19XX - May 23, 19XX  
Once upon a July.

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on aff in 2018
> 
> i meant to fix it up a bit before posting on here but i decided whatever, it's close enough to july anyway LOL
> 
> cheongsu is a fictional town that i made up for the purposes of this story (i use this town name a lot, if you read any of my other stories lol). in this particular story, it's a small village in the mountains.


End file.
